Of Fights, Of Pillows, and of Roast Beef
by aliform
Summary: Maybe one day, Ronald Weasley would grow a brain, but until then, Hermione would just have to be sure to have a steady supply of pillows in arm's reach." / RonxHermione / HarryxGinny


**Of Fights, of Pillows, and of Roast Beef**

"You know, eventually one of you two is going to have to get past this," Ginny said, leaning against the wall across from Hermione.

"And that person will be him, because I'm not going anywhere," said Hermione, folding her arms across her chest., "Besides, he's the one that owes _me_ an apology."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Give it a rest already! We are on vacation! We aren't supposed to be getting into fights!"

Hermione looked at Ginny from under her eyelashes, causing the red head to close her mouth and leave the room.

"Any progress on Ms. Stubborn?" asked Harry to Ginny as she entered the hallway.

She shook her head, "And on Mr. Stubborn?"

"Nope. He's quite content with the idea of sitting there all day," he said, and shrugged.

"At this rate they'll _never _get married..." Ginny sighed, "So what are we going to do?"

Harry smiled, "Anything."

She pressed herself up against him and stood on her tiptoes, resting her head on his shoulder, "Really?" she whispered.

He smirked, "Really."

"Well that's good because there's some cooking that we need to get done," she said, pulling away, her voice back to it's normal tone.

Harry cursed under his breath, watching his girlfriend walk away. He pointed his index finger at no one in particular, "That," he said, "Is not fair," and started to follow.

Ginny stuck her tongue out and walked down the stairs towards the kitchen.

"Harry?" she called.

He walked in, cocking his head in confirmation, "Yes?"

"How about we make Ron's favorite food tonight?" she said, tying her apron behind her back.

"Um," he said, "Okay. Why?"

Ginny smiled, "Hermione is too polite to pass up on dinner, and Ron couldn't turn down a good roast beef."

He smiled, "Good idea... How can I help?"

"First off, keep your hands off the food. Remember the last time we cooked together?"

Harry flinched, "I prefer not to."

Ginny laughed, "It didn't turn out too bad though. The ceiling was tricky, but George got 'round to it eventually. Mum was able to fix up the stove and windows, and Crookshanks' fur grew back pretty quickly."

"Yes, well let's do our best to not repeat that experience," he said, sitting down, "Looks like even the Chosen One can't do everything."

She smiled, "Well, he can ruin some perfectly good pumpkin pasties."

* * *

Ron laid on his stomach flipping through "Quidditch Through the Ages" nonchalantly. He was tempted to grab the book on how to charm witches from under his bed, but decided it was unnecessary.

After all _she_ was the one at fault.

_She_ was the one who had gotten hysterical about absolutely nothing.

He could stay up there all day if he had to. All night if he must, but he knew that Hermione wouldn't be able to sleep a night without him in her bed to hold her, so she would sneak in sometime before bed and apologize.

Surely she would.

_But what if she doesn't?_

"But she will," Ron muttered, watching the Quidditch players move from page to page, in pursuit of the ever-illusive snitch. He tried to imagine falling asleep without her, the other side of his bed completely empty, wondering if _he_ was the one who couldn't last the night without _her._

"Ha!" he said, and shut the book.

* * *

"Good, it's almost done," said Ginny, closing the door to the stove. "Just a few minutes left."

"Cool," Harry smiled, heading towards the door, "I'll go tell'em to start heading down here."

She caught his wrist just before he made it out of the kitchen. "Not quite yet, Harry."

He didn't have time to respond, as she dragged him over to the door frame, and yelled and a completely unnecessary volume, "Harry, want to go grab the butterbeer for me?"

He clutched his ear, "Ginny, I'm standing right next to you!"

"Shush," she whispered to him, and then returned to her previous volume, being careful to aim her voice towards the stairs, "And while you are at it check to make sure the meat isn't burning, I need to run upstairs real quick."

He nodded, understanding her motive, and responded loudly, "Sure, Gin."

Ginny started up the stairs, "Thanks Harry! You're the best!"

* * *

Hermione sat against the wall. She heard footsteps, so she sat up straighter, simultaneously hoping that it was Ron and hoping that it wasn't Ron.

Ginny.

"Dinner's ready, Hermione," she said.

Hermione nodded. "Is Ron going to go down?"

Ginny shrugged, "Do you think he can turn his favorite food down?"

She smiled, standing up and heading out into the hallway, "I doubt he can turn any food down."

The red head laughed, "We'll see," and poked her head into her brother's room, "Hey, Ron, supper's ready."

He rolled over mumbling something containing the phrase, "not hungry."

Hermione continued down the stairs, "Bullshit."

While Ginny shrugged, "Suit yourself," and promptly turned around and shouted, "Harry can you fetch the roast beef from the oven please?!" at which Ron's appetite was given a new life.

Needless to say, he was there at the dinner table that night.

No apologies were exchanged, but by the end of the meal, Ron had a full stomach and no ill feelings towards Hermione, who also seemed to be over the whole ordeal.

Ginny smiled to herself, and muttered so that only Harry could hear, "We need to remember this next time something like this happens. Just feed him and they'll both shut up."

* * *

Harry lay in bed, prepared for a peaceful rest. A rest, he realized soon after, he would not be receiving for quite some time when Ginny walked in the room.

"Ginny," he whined sitting up, and she crawled under the covers to cuddle next to him. "Ginny, please."

She smiled, "But we aren't doing anything. And even if we were, it's not like anyone would find out," she said, with an edge of suggestiveness that made Harry slightly uncomfortable, "Mum and dad aren't coming until tomorrow evening."

He shook his head, "No."

She straddled his legs, putting her hands on his chest, "Please?"

"Ginny, you are just making it harder for the both of us," he said, utilizing all of his self control to make a half hearted attempt at pushing her off of him.

"Good," she said, pushing him back so they were both horizontal, "That was _exactly_ my intention, as it happens."

"Good God, Ginny," he said, observing the rather small nightdress she wore, "You could have at least had the decency to wear proper clothes."

"Why?" she smiled, "They would just end up on the floor or something."

"Ginny," he said, having trouble disagreeing with her, "You are still in school."

She licked her lips and kissed his collar bone, "But I'm of age."

"But you're still in school."

"But I'm of age," she said, pressing herself closer, "Plus, it's not like it's not consensual or anything."

He groaned, "_No,_ Ginny."

She smiled, and pressed her lips against his, "What's that, Harry, I'm not quite sure I heard you. Did you just say that you want me to leave?"

Harry closed his eyes and allowed her to lead his hands around her waist, "Oh, really? You must be hearing things, Gin."

"That's what I thought," she smiled, and leaned into kiss him.

Meanwhile, Hermione pounced out of bed, "_What do you mean it was my fault?!_ You're the one who started chatting her up!"

Ron sighed, rubbing his temples, "Merlin's beard, Hermione, you didn't have to wake up the whole of London."

She clenched her jaw, "Ronald Weasley. I had better receive an apology from you."

Ron sighed again. He still didn't think it was his fault, but he really didn't want to have her yelling at him all night either, "Hermione, whatever. I'm sorry, just get back over here, I don't think I can go a night without you."

At this, Hermione's expression softened, "You're really sorry?"

_She'd better not go tellin' the others about this._ He bit his lip, starting to grow unsure about the apology. _It's still not my fault. "_Umm," he said, and decided to get it over with or suffer through more lectures, "Yeah," he hesitated, "I really am."

She smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, "And you won't do it again?"

"I didn't say that," he scoffed, and then was given the "Pillow-In-Face" treatment from Hermione, but she slid back into bed anyways.

Maybe one day, Ronald Weasley would grow a brain, but until then, Hermione would just have to be sure to have a steady supply of pillows in arm's reach.

The End.

* * *

**What an active week I have had! (Yes'm, you have had an active week!)**

**I don't even necessarily enjoy these pairings that much, and incidentally, I have no idea where this fic came from.**

**Reviews?**


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